


Death Would Be Kinder

by allofoursecrets



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, because watching the angst wasn't enough now you have to read it too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 07:02:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15504933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allofoursecrets/pseuds/allofoursecrets
Summary: This was not death, the aftermath of the snap. Death herself would have been kinder. The void that was approaching, filled with souls and screams was just...nothing.





	Death Would Be Kinder

Peter knew; he knew before all of them. As soon as the universe felt the snap, Peter’s entire body felt as though he had been dipped into molten steel. His nerves were superheating on the subatomic level, his brain going into sensory overload from the incoming knowledge of his own inescapable doom, yet also cursed with the knowledge that millions others were about to cease to exist as well. At least the others would have mere seconds of agony. Peter felt it minutes before, and every cell in his body was ablaze and encased in ice all at once, trying in an agonizing desperation to keep him in existence when the cosmos themselves knew he was being unwritten.

He stumbled forward, his legs unable to support his weight. Tony reached towards him, his brain unable to accept the reality that was coming to be in front of him. All the things Tony had done to protect Peter from the world, from the villains, from _himself_ \- and _it wasn’t enough_. He’d think back countless times on this moment in the coming days, punishing himself for not being able to save him, not being able to do _more._ Tony scrambled for the right words, desperately trying to tell Peter it was okay; he’d be fine. _You’ll be alright._

No sooner than the words had left Tony’s mouth did he realize just how bleak and grim the situation was; his words to Peter were pointless. He wouldn't be alright; the damn kid was moments away from oblivion. There was no classic Tony Stark quip, no last-minute trick up his sleeves he could use to save the day. They were out of options. There was nothing Tony could do to rewind time and prevent Peter’s destruction. Nothing he could do would ever be enough to change this moment in time. And yet, Tony found himself saying it again, almost trying to convince himself this time. _You’re alright_. They both knew it was a lie.

Peter held onto Tony with such force, latching onto him as his feet gave way beneath him, hoping against all odds that his will to live coupled with his fear to die could somehow bind his unraveling cells back together, un-do what had already been set in motion.

_I don’t want to go_ , someone was sobbing, over and over.

Peter’s heart froze as he realized it was _him_. It was _his voice_ begging Tony to save him, _his voice_ that sounded so far away.

Peter Parker was being robbed of life just as he was being robbed of death. He wasn’t dying, not really; to die, one must have lived first. No, this was not death. This was much, much worse. Peter’s very existence was being ripped out of of the pages of history; a black, hazy cloud eating away every moment, every prior and future trace of him until there was nothing left to suggest he had even existed in the first place. This was not death, the aftermath of the snap. Death herself would have been kinder. The void that was approaching, filled with souls and screams was just... _nothing_.

Peter’s balance, usually so impeccable, betrayed him as he fell back, Tony still holding onto him. Peter was so much more than afraid. He was terrified, filled with a fear so deep that it transcended his own reality. He could feel his own oblivion at the same time as he felt the millions of other souls being extinguished around him. It felt like he was witness to and part of the worst massacre in history. He was downright petrified.

He looked up at Tony’s face and saw a grief he had never seen on Tony before. Tony couldn’t bring himself to say anything in Peter's last seconds — _what could he possibly say to change the scene unfolding in front of him?_ — and instead focused on committing every detail of Peter’s death to memory. If there was a sliver of hope in the future to change what was unfolding in front of him in the present, Tony wanted to remember the grief, the pain, the rage, the hopelessness he felt _now_. Peter whispered a muffled apology, hoping Tony would understand more than just the words _I’m sorry_. He broke his eyes away from Tony’s gaze, and he felt his body tear itself away, piece by piece. He felt red-hot, searing pain like no other.

And then he felt nothing.

 


End file.
